<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Staring at the Stars by yespolkadot_kitty</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861608">Staring at the Stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty'>yespolkadot_kitty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, moonlight and sexytimes, tavern wenches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:27:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier has come back to the tavern for you.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Female Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Staring at the Stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Lyrics are not mine - they're from Joey Batey's band, The Amazing Devil, in their song Welly Boots. I recommend it. Listen here: https://open.spotify.com/track/4ZpjckIEgzIgkUynuoGVA1</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s his second night playing in the tavern. There’s a bigger crowd tonight, and they’re hanging on every word that passes his lips. Every word of the raucous </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fishmonger’s Daughter</span>
  </em>
  <span> and every whisper of the heartbreaking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Her Sweet Kiss</span>
  </em>
  <span> and everything in between.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your father had offered any bard of some renown free beer, food and board for performing, to draw in customers - humid summer nights were sometimes bad for trade, as people drank home-brewed moonshine in their own fields, lying in the grass, staring at the stars above their chimneys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But not tonight. Tonight Jaskier drew them like a moth to a flame, and you could see why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a brief break from serving heaving dishes of beef stew and vegetable broth, both provided with lashings of herbs and chunky bread, you leant on the smooth, worn bar top, chin in hand and elbow between rows of tankards, listening, listening and dreaming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And when you scream that it's not fair</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's like I've gone off to the coast</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Left you behind just standing there</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pretending not to see your ghost</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His gaze flickered over the tavern’s patrons as he sung, those clever fingers strumming his lute, his eyes blazing blue in his face. If it seemed like he looked at you a time or two, well, you were sure you’d imagined that. You were just another wench in just another tavern on the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> go on the road again - you were sure of that because of the hulking figure in dark leather brooding at the back of the tavern, a steaming plate of stew (his second) in front of him. Every so often you caught him looking at Jaskier with something akin to fondness, and it warmed your heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, Jaskier would move on. And you, you wouldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You turned away, listening but unable to daydream anymore when there was ale to be poured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song ended and you sighed. No matter, you’d hear it again in your head for many nights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some of that </span>
  <em>
    <span>delightful</span>
  </em>
  <span> honeyed mead, if you would, sweet lady.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You froze. Never had you imagined hearing that in Jaskier’s voice, directed at </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You looked around for a second, but no other barmaid had come to join you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of-of course,” you stammered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s as sweet as your face,” he continued, resting his elbows on the bar, so close you could see the grey shot through his blue, blue eyes. His lute was slung casually over his back and he was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span> that it hurt to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, don’t,” you murmured as you poured him the drink, sliding it over the bar top, worn smooth by years of doing exactly this. You didn’t want his easy, false flattery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier wrapped his hands around the tankard. You wondered if he’d have calluses from years of playing, and how they’d feel on your skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right,” he said, taking a sip of the ale. You watched his throat work as he swallowed. “Then I’ll say that I haven’t been able to forget your face since Geralt and I last passed this way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> made your hand falter as you stoppered the ale keg, and you turned to look at him, knowing you were probably wide-eyed, but unable to help it. “I... “ You face coloured, felt hot. “You say that to all the wenches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t,” rumbled a voice to your left, and you started, finding the huge Witcher standing over you. For such a large man, the largest you’d ever seen, he moved as silent as a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods, would you wear a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bell?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jaskier demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier talks a lot of horseshit, but he’s never lied. And I’ve listened to him enough, believe me,” the Witcher continued, as if Jaskier hadn't spoken, as you refilled his tankard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, thanks, Geralt,” Jaskier returned dryly as the Witcher disappeared back into the shadows of the tavern, presumably to brood and drink alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” you asked softly as Jaskier drew circles on the bar top with his finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted his sky blue gaze to yours. “Conversation, company, a muse to write songs about?” There was mischief in the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, and there was a promise dancing in his eyes, and you wanted it more than you wanted your next breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you also didn’t want to be just another notch on the bard’s bedpost, no matter what the Witcher had said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” you asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth grew solemn. “And someone to share secrets with, in the dark.” He lifted the lute over his head and turned the instrument over. There, on the back of the lute, pyrographed, was your name. “Geralt’s right. I don’t lie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart pounded in your chest, your mouth went dry. You looked into his eyes and said: “Meet me tonight, under the willow tree with the faerie door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier reached over the bar and cupped your cheek, his touch warm and sure on your skin. “Until then.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>